


Of Hearts and Shells - Turtle Doves

by Ravenshell



Series: Of Hearts and Shells [4]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apritello, Erotica, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:52:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3905395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenshell/pseuds/Ravenshell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don and April prepare for their life together, but the best man has been kidnapped by a new mutant, Shredder is on the prowl, and a lovely lady has her eye on Raph, with less than honorable intentions. Book 2 of the OHAS series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> It was my original intention to not post this work until it was fully completed, but I'm getting anxious holding back, so here you go... I'll start releasing this fic by chapter periodically. I've been keeping busy beta-reading for several folks, so progress on my own works has been slow... but I'll push ahead on! hummerhouse has recommended a cross-posting system; this fic will be posted in full form at AFF, Ao3, and Stealthy Stories, and the prologue and part of chapter 1 will be released on Deviant Art and FF.net.
> 
> The 'turtle' in the Shakespeare poem below is actually a turtle dove, not an actual turtle, but I drew some connections between "The Turtle and the Phoenix" and Don and April.
> 
> And now, the Prologue, with 60% recycled content! This is your 'previously on...' plus a little.  
> Hope you enjoy! Please leave me a review! I love hearing from you and hearing what I can improve to make this series the best it can be! <3 R/s

 

 

"Literature is mostly about having sex and not much about having children; life is the other way around."

- _David Lodge_

 

So they lov'd, as love in twain

Had the essence but in one;

Two distincts, division none:

Number there in love was slain.

 

Hearts remote, yet not asunder;

Distance, and no space was seen

'Twixt the turtle and his queen;

But in them it were a wonder.

 

So between them love did shine,

That the turtle saw his right

Flaming in the phoenix' sight:

Either was the other's mine.

 

- _from “The Phoenix and the Turtle,” William Shakespeare_

 

“Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.” _\- A.A. Milne_

 

 

Prologue

_Two months prior:_

 

Raphael crouched behind a decorative hedge in Central Park, Donatello at his side, the two of them watching several Kraang construct what appeared to be a petting zoo and a carousel. A number of standard farm animals arrived in front of them, as well as an large iguana, an ostrich, and a camel, as the Kraang seemed to have a poor grasp of what belonged in a petting zoo.

For good measure, one of the Kraang droids added a container labeled "Hand Sanitizer" to a post of the little menagerie, and opening the top, poured in the contents of a flask of mutagen.

Disgust graced Raph's featured. "That is just deranged..."

Then Leo had called everyone’s attention to the eight canisters of mutagen bound to the outer struts of the carousel’s canopy. In their efforts to retrieve the mutagen from the carousel, despite the pouring rainstorm, they were spotted. A mass of Kraang robots attacked. April, who had just been catching and stashing the canisters as Donnie and Raph unscrewed and pried them loose, suddenly became the focus of the Kraang’s attention. In an attempt to draw the army of androids away from the turtles on the carousel, she led them into a spiral, then let off a mind-blast, deadening a number of them, yet she was pursued by a dozen outside the range of her blast.

Still carrying one of the containers of mutagen, she sought refuge by climbing up the rigging of the carousel. The Kraang followed, climbing up after her. One reached for her as she felt her hair start to stand on end despite the rain. “Catch!” she yelled at the Kraang as she threw the mutagen in the air. She leapt away, letting the fabric of the canopy break her fall as the Kraang, container, and carousel were struck by a blinding, deafening bolt of lightning. The mutagen itself turned the pinkish-white of the lightning bolt, and as it fell, was pierced by laser-fire from the ongoing battle, splashing April with it despite Leo’s attempt to push her out of the way. As the turtles mopped up the rest of the Kraang, she reemerged, transformed into…

"What am I?" she asked agonizingly as she wobbled on unfamiliar feet. She had her eyes clenched closed, refusing to look at herself in fear.

"You're a t—" Donnie started, and his voice died as he took in the vision before him. "You're a turtle..." She let out a sobbing breath that was partly mournful but mostly relief as she fell into his arms. Still stunned, he pulled her to him, patting her shell. "It's all right... I'll look after you..."

Sirens sounded, nearing their location. "Let's grab the mutagen and get underground," Leo commanded in a subdued tone.

Donnie paused, picking up the remains of the container of pinkish mutagen—he would need to analyze it to figure out why April had transformed despite her immunity, and from there, produce a retro-mutagen for her. She clung to him, wobbly, shocked, and upset. He led her to a nearby grating that the others were jumping down into and caught her by the carapace as she lost her balance on the leap down.

She sniffled as they walked the long distance back toward the lair. “Does it… look bad?”

Don beamed down at her. “No, Sweetheart…” he tried to assure her, finding himself at a loss for words. Their recent breakup made their close contact now feel rather awkward, so he fell back on his old standby, babbling about science. “I don’t know how this could have happened… somehow this mutagen bypassed your immunity. It must have some special properties that the regular mutagen doesn’t… but I’ll have to thoroughly analyze it when we get back to the lair. Good thing the rain didn’t ruin it.” He looked down to her, noticing that all his science talk wasn’t helping; she still had tears in her eyes. “Don’t worry… I’ll find a way to get you back to normal,” he comforted. The distraught, tearful look didn’t leave her face, but she nestled her head against his shoulder as he continued to aid her balance.

A few yards behind them, Mikey was in near-rapture. “Look at them! They’re so cute! Oh my god! Raph, don’t you think so?”

“Mmmh…” Raph grumbled, looking away.

“Come on… I know you want to see Donny and April happy, right?”

“Mikey, shut up! I’m trying to think of something…”

“Is it about Donnie and April? ‘cause that’s all I can think about! Eeee!—whoops!” He dropped one of the mutagen canisters he’d been carrying.

“Goddammit, Mikey!” Raphael stuck a foot out, catching the falling vessel on his ankle. “Focus, wouldja, idiot?! The last thing we need is more mutagen spilled all over the place!”

“Sorry…” the younger turtle apologized, reclaiming the container from his brother’s ankle.

Raph growled, wrinkling his brow and shaking his head, trying to make the fleeting thought he’d had come back to him. It probably didn’t help that his gaze kept being drawn to April’s shell, and the odd way it sculpted to her feminine form. He traced the figure-8 outline of it down to her tail as it swayed slightly with each step she took, then shook himself. No, April’s ass was not what he was trying to remember… It was… something else, he knew, but what? The harder he tried to grasp at it, the more it eluded him, and the more it eluded him, the more it pissed him off. He sighed in annoyance, turning to Mikey. “You ever get the feeling you forgot something really important?” Mikey took a breath, about to answer when Raph interrupted. “Nevermind, of course _you_ have…”

 

Officer Terrance Boyd stepped out of his patrol car at the northwest corner of Central Park. He and his partner, Matt Young, had responded to a call about an out-of-control unauthorized fireworks show in the park. What he found instead was a broken-down and abandoned carousel and a very strange collection of animals in a pen bordered by one of the park’s ornamental hedges. A pair of piglets and some pygmy goats nibbled at a mangled sack of potatoes. An ostrich approached him from the side and attempted a peck at his badge. “Whoa there, champ. That’s not for you!” Giving up on the badge and taking interest in one of the officer’s shirt buttons instead, the ostrich pecked at him twice more. Boyd smacked it lightly in the head. “Get off, or I’m fining you for attempted theft and assault on an officer!” He told it mockingly and shoved it away. “Dumb animal… Matt!”

“Yeah, Terr?” Matt, examining the burnt-out carousel, called in response.

“Head back to the car and call a couple of animal control guys down here. Tell ‘em they’re gonna need a horse trailer for the camel and the ostrich and… hell, I dunno… We’ve got about fifteen medium-sized animals here. _And_ we’re gonna have to have this hunk of junk taken apart and impounded…”

“You know we have phones for that these days, right?”

“I know, but I want you to grab my coffee for me while you’re over there.”

The other officer rolled his eyes and walked back to where they’d parked on an access road, exiting through the convenient burnt gap in the hedge. “What a mess,” he commented. “Why do people always have to destroy nice things?”

Boyd nodded knowingly, but was then distracted by a tug on his pant leg. He glanced down to see a pygmy goat kid nibbling at his ankle. He bent down and picked it up. “Hey there, little guy!”

“Meeh!” the goat bleated at him.

“ ’Meeh!’ ” Boyd echoed back at it with a chuckle. “Don’t you worry… we’ll take you somewhere they can take care of you.” He put the little goat down and gazed at the assortment of animals in the little pen, shaking his head. “Hooligans…” His eye touched on the container labeled as hand sanitizer. “Eh, can’t be too careful…” he muttered, dispensing a few pumps of the liquid into his hands and rubbing it on thoroughly. It burned, and not just on the skin—it felt like it was going right through to the bone. He expected it to stop any second, but it quickly worsened, the sensation not confining itself to his hands but running up his arms and then all across his body. He let out a panicked yelp, then a series of agonized screams as his body wrenched around, reforming itself, tearing out of his clothing at the legs and chest. His face and ears elongated, and long spiraling horns erupted from his head, twisting upward. His feet split in half, busting through his shoes and forming into hard hooves, and coarse brown and white hair covered his body, forming a thicker mane behind his head.

Among all the other piercing agony, he didn’t feel his mind alter, but as the pain withdrew, the first thing he knew was rage. He kicked the animal pen apart with his cloven hooves, wrenched the “hand sanitizer” loose with his horns, and flung it away. It crashed down on the mud path, the mutagen spilling out of the broken plastic container and soaking ineffectually into the dirt.

The massive goat mutant leapt agilely over the hedgerow with a bellow, scaring a pair of joggers, who fled back the way they came with terrified screams. He tore a topiaried tree apart, and was about to continue to destroy the landscaping when a voice caught his attention.

“Boyd? Terry? Where’d you get to?”

Boyd leapt back over the hedge. Young dropped the cup of coffee in his hand as he backed away from the eight-foot tall mutant goat. Boyd’s eyes fell on the paper cup as it splashed its contents on the ground. He growled, glowering at the other officer. “Litterers,” he said in a voice much deeper and more gravelly than his own, “…will be prosecuted!”

Young continued to stare at the mutant, shaking as he drew his piece and took aim at the giant goat creature. Boyd spotted the weapon, spun, and deftly kicked the gun out of his partner’s hand. Matt yelped and grasped his wrist as it was bent in a direction it wasn’t supposed to bend. “Assault with a deadly weapon,” the mutant rumbled, “carries a stiff penalty.” He reached up and tore a bough off an overhanging willow, stripping the limbs off with his other hand.

As the mutant raised the branch above its head, a glint of gold on the creature’s chest caught Young’s eye. He focused on the shape on the torn dark blue material… a shield. “Boyd?” he said in realization, then had to roll to his right to avoid the creature’s improvised whip. “Boyd! Terry!” he shouted.

The goat mutant froze, responding to his name. “Young…” he identified with a growl.

Matt nodded. “Terr, what happened to you?!” he all but whispered.

A moment of lucidity touched Boyd’s mind. This was his partner; you didn’t attack your partner. But he had, and part of him still wanted to. He stomped a foot into the earth in frustration. He had to remove himself before he tried to attack Young again. Glancing around desperately, his eyes fell on the burnt gap in the hedge, and beyond it… a sewer grating! He sprang toward it with a great leap, hooves clopping on the concrete as he landed. Dropping to all-fours, he hooked the grate with his horns and threw it, not caring where it landed. It crashed down the access road as Boyd slipped down the gap and disappeared into the sewers.

Matt scrambled toward the grating after him. “Boyd! Boyd! Terry!” he shouted down into the tunnels, receiving no answer other than the rapidly diminishing clip-clop of hooves.

 

_Three weeks ago:_

Donnie scrambled backward from the chained turtle before him, then nearly passed out as his brain screamed in agony. It had been risky, and downright stupid to try to synergize with her in her crazed state, and he had nearly paid the price for trying for one last mental contact as her drives had nearly taken him over and attempted to use his body to rape hers. He’d managed to tear away, and through the burning fire behind his eyes, he grabbed up the syringe of retro-mutagen and plunged it into April’s shoulder. She began to shriek in pain as her very cells tore apart to reconfigure themselves and her body rearranged itself back to her human form.

He slipped out of Master Splinter’s study as the rat mutant entered to drape his red kimono around the naked girl, but he didn’t make it far before she came running after him, intercepting his path.

“Donnie… I’m so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you… I didn’t have control over it, I couldn’t help it… I couldn’t stop!” she blurted out all at once. “I’m sorry, Donnie! I love you!” The turtle stood motionless, not even seeming to take in her words. “Say something!” she pleaded.

He turned away, refusing to meet her gaze and show her the pain in his heart. “April… please go.” She choked off a sob, but did as he asked and fled.

Donatello himself tried to make his way to his bedroom, but his feet felt like lead. He had striven so hard to get her back to normal, to give her back her freedom with the vague hope that somehow he could still be a part of her life, to find some way of stopping the nymphomania that had such a grip on her… and to fulfill her wish to remain a turtle. Now, at this moment, he never wanted to see her again. For two months, they had known such dazzling pleasure, and a closeness that other couples could only dream of achieving… But in the last week, it had all fallen apart so disastrously… and the wounds she left on Donnie’s heart were the deepest.

 

For three weeks, he managed to avoid her, always managing to be out when she came for training or patrols, or when she came to cook dinner on Thursdays. His brothers were supportive when Donnie explained what had happened between them. Leonardo had more or less sensed that Don needed time away from April, and always granted his requests to bow out of patrols or hold practice earlier in the day while she was still in school. Raph and Mikey grasped the severity of the situation when Don had explained his last encounter with her. While Raph still thought that Donnie should stop being a coward and tell April to buzz off and Mikey remained optimistic that the two would reconcile, neither pushed the issue, and Donnie was thankful for that. Maybe he could start to forget her….

 

_Today:_

Donnie was leaving the abandoned asylum building, having just checked up on their friends in the Mutant Alliance, when he received a text from April. She had texted several times daily since her reversion and return to the surface, and while Donnie read them all, he refused to answer… until this one: _Urgent: NEED to talk to u. Pls see me._

He’d agreed to meet her, but part of him still wanted to back out. Raph was right, though… he needed to confront her, or he’d always be living in fear….

And the next thing he knew, she was crying in his arms; instead of confronting her, he was comforting her. Somehow, he couldn’t help it. His fear of her dissolved as he consoled her remorse. It hadn’t been her fault that she couldn’t stop herself with her inhibitions put on hold by the flaw in her mutation, and Donnie expressed his own guilt at not seeing the problem soon enough, and denying there was one when Leo pointed it out to him… His love for her had entirely blinded him, and he’d gone willingly.

Fear seized him in a sudden realization. “Jesus, April… Did I… Was I _raping_ you every time we…?!”

April’s jaw dropped. “No!” she breathed, her voice nearly deserting her. “No! My poor, sweet Donnie! Don’t you _ever_ think that!” she told him, nearly in tears herself. “I wanted you! Every time… I wanted you to! Just… some of them would have been against my better judgment and humility, is all… ”

Donnie felt awkward asking, but the question needed to be aired. “So, Raph…”

“Raph was… convenient. I needed someone right there and then, and since you were being difficult…” she trailed off, turning mournful eyes back to him, guilt evident in her face. “I didn’t do it to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you…”

But she had. The fact that she had seduced Raph with false tears when Donnie had denied her insatiable lust ached like an reopened wound, but it wasn’t one he was going to allow to fester. The past was the past; he could let it go.

“I really did want to stay with you as a turtle,” she continued.

Sighing, he turned his head away from her. “I wish I hadn’t had to break my promise to you. If things were normal, I’d’ve fought to let you stay… but things are never normal, are they?”

“Not around you guys, they’re not.”

Donnie grimaced. “…which is why I want you to go back to your life up top. I don’t want to be the millstone around your neck. I want you to be—“

“—free, you’ve said. You’ve got a very limited definition of freedom, you know.”

He’d been taken aback at this, but she’d explained her choice to stay with him, and she’d been adamant. “I’m not leaving my soul-mate. Period.”

Donnie’s heart soared, but he could only think about how difficult their relationship would be, given their circumstances. “This is going to make things really complicated… Our lives couldn’t possibly get crazier, could they?” She only answered with fidgety silence, so he teased her, prodding her with an elbow. “You missed your cue… This is the part where you say you’re pregnant.” She gave him an open-mouthed look as her words caught in her throat, and realization dawned that he’d hit the nail on the head. “You’re pregnant?”

“I’ve decided to keep it,” she confirmed quietly.

Joy exploded through every part of Donnie’s being. He and April were going to have a child together! The girl, nay, the _young woman_ he loved was going to bear his son or daughter, and something about that made him inordinately happy. Perhaps it was that this was the product of their love, despite how brief their period of compatibility had been… made that much more precious by its singularity, as they would never be able to reproduce by normal means again; perhaps because of the miracle that he and April had been granted to be together at all, despite the drawbacks, and that that, in turn, had produced this second little miracle. And maybe because part of him looked forward to the great adventure of parenthood. He hauled her to her feet and grabbled her around the waist, spinning her around wildly on the platform. “I’m gonna be a father!!” he hollered. She shrieked with laughter as he gave her a toss in the air and caught her again, planting beaky turtle kisses across her face. “When? How far along are you?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Could be a few weeks, could be near three months… I haven’t gone to the doctor’s yet…” Her face grew somber for a moment. “There’s a chance… that… it’s Raph’s…”

He hid a scowl, instead giving a dismissive shake of the head. She must have been with Raphael longer than he’d thought… but even if the baby was Raph’s, did it make a difference? Donnie would love it all the same. It would probably give Raph no joy to learn if the child was his by his and April’s chance encounter. The very thought of fatherhood would probably give Donnie’s more volatile brother an ulcer. He decided Raph didn’t need to know. “Doesn’t matter. I’m claiming it as mine,” he told April.

She beamed, and they stared into each other’s eyes as their mental connection fired up, familiar as ever, strong, beautiful emotions singing back and forth between them. _Huh, it still works,_ he noticed.

 _Sure it does,_ April thought back. _Our souls still know each other._

The two professed their love for one another aloud, then Donnie captured one of her hands in his and dragged her excitedly along behind him. “Come on!”


	2. Entanglement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big announcement, telling the parents, and their first night back together.

“WE’RE GONNA HAVE A BABY!!” Donnie shouted from the entrance to the lair, arms wide above him. April appeared behind him a moment later, a radiant smile gracing her features.

Reactions went up from Don’s brothers in various parts of the lair. Michelangelo let out an rapturous squeal and was on his feet in an instant, bounding over to the pair and hugging April ecstatically. Donnie was certain Mikey was already picking out names for their Apritello offspring.  

Leo was, as always, calmer with his congratulation, but his warmth toward his brother and their closest friend radiated from his wider-than-usual grin, reflecting Donnie’s own face-splitting smile.

The rice-paper door of Splinter’s room slid open swiftly and the rat mutant emerged hurriedly. “Did I hear you correctly, Donatello?”

Don nodded to him fervently. “ _Otoo-san_ , you’re going to be _ojii-san_!” he announced, pulling April away from Mikey to present her before their master. The aging rat let out a barking laugh and embraced them both, first April, then his son.

“Indeed, this is a cause for great celebration!”

“Already on it, Sensei!” Mikey called, dialing his t-phone. “Yeah, I’m gonna need three extra-larges, double-everything…”

Splinter sighed and shook his head. “We all have our ways of celebrating,” he acknowledged with a chuckle, and after a brief conversation with the couple, bowed and retreated to his study once again.

Donnie expected at the least some ribbing or complaint of some sort from Raph, but his normally brash brother was more reticent than normal. In fact, though Raphael was leaning on one of the lair’s support pillars with his arms crossed in his usual swaggering posture, his expression read as lost and possibly even a bit fearful, staring at their human friend. Leaving April chatting with Leo, Don approached him. “Raph?”

“Oh… um… Congratulations, Donnie,” Raph mumbled guiltily.

Don nodded his thanks. “You all right?”

“Fine,” Raph lied, though his eyes still drifted back to April.

Donnie leaned against the pillar, facing away from his brother. “You’re worried it’s yours,” he deduced.

The red-masked turtle’s eyes flicked sideways to Donnie in mild surprise. After a moment of staring, Raph sighed and conceded. “Yeah.”

“Hmf,” Don grunted. “Typical.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Raph snapped.

Donnie treated him to a mocking smirk. “It’s just like you to assume your sperm would beat mine out… that despite the hundred or so times I had sex with April, you’re the one to manage to get her knocked-up.”

Raph blinked, a bit stunned. Clearly, that had been the thread of what he had been thinking. He looked dubious. “It’s possible, though, isn’t it? I mean… we did it twice before you stormed in on us…”

Donnie snorted, not meeting his brother’s gaze. “D’you remember that evening? D’you remember that April and I were out having a picnic that night, and that we came home completely exhausted?” Raph was silent. Donnie knew he remembered, though he may not have realized that detail. “Raph, I had her _seven times_ before she came after you. _Seven_. So unless you think you hit some magical window when you did her, or you think that I’m impotent—which I wouldn’t put past you—“

“Hey, c’mon, Donnie, don’t put words in my mouth!”

“—then there’s practically no chance it’s yours.”

Rapahel considered his brother’s words for a few moments, becoming suspicious. Donnie was usually more precise about numbers. “ ’Practically none’ isn’t ‘none,’ though, is it?”

Don let out an aggravated sigh. “If it was yours, Raph, what did you plan to do? Knock me out with your club and drag April off to your man-cave by her hair?” He managed to get a guffaw out of his brother with that one, but the humor went out of his brother as soon as it had appeared and the mask of concern reappeared.

“I just…” the red-banded turtle started, frustratedly, then cut himself off. “If I’m the father, I need to stand up and take responsibility… take care of her and the baby.”

“And, what, you think you can do that better than me too?” He smirked as Raph gave him another wide-eyed look. “I’ve got this. She’s not going to be one of those soap-opera single mothers, you know… she has me. I’ll take care of her, provide for her. Even if by some pale chance the kid was biologically yours, which isn’t something I’m going to delve into unless it’s really necessary, it’s not like that would make me reject it or treat it any differently than if it was mine… which it is, Mr. My-Sperm-Are-Better-Than-Your-Sperm.”

A fist came around the side of the pillar, smacking Donnie in the shoulder. He winced, rubbing the spot so it wouldn’t bruise. Clearly, Raph was feeling back in his element again. “Donnie… Thanks.”

He smiled. “Sure.”

Having exhausted her conversation with Leo, April headed toward the two turtles leaning against the pillar. “So, what’re you guys talking about over here all quiet-like?”

“Oh, Raph’s just going on about how he’s going to steal you and the baby away from me. I guess he wants a little family for him—“ He dodged a second blow as Raph’s fist came around the side of the pillar again. “—self!”

Raph let out a low growl. “Donnie!”

“…especially since I’m so much more virulent than him!” He was tempting fate, taunting his brother, but his excitement had made him a bit punch drunk. He danced out of the path of another of Raph’s swings. “Whoo-ha-ha!”

Raph pounded a fist into his hand. “April, congratulations… ‘scuse me while I knock some humility into your baby’s daddy…” With that, he lunged at Donnie, chasing him across the lair with a yell.

April gave an appreciative chuckle as Raph tackled his brother and delivered a series of punches. Don did his best to block, used to this treatment from years of experience, but still emitting the occasional “Ow!”

“Don’t rough him up too bad, Raph… I wanted Donnie to come with me to tell my dad tonight.”

“Hah-wha?” Donnie’s head came up, promptly receiving a blow to the side. He caught Raph’s next punch and held it, focus on April. Raph eased off his roughhousing, seeing the shocked look on Don’s face. “You haven’t told your father yet?”

She gave an awkward shrug. “I was waiting to see how you’d react first, to see what I’d need to do afterward…”

Donnie picked himself up off the floor, hurrying to her side, concern etched on his face. “Did you tell anyone before me?”

She shook her head slightly. “I tried to tell Casey, but… I just couldn’t…”

“And you broke down crying.” April gave him a nod with an odd inquiring expression. “He told me,” Don explained.

“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?!” she asked mock-indignantly. “I didn’t know I had a stalker!”

He led her back to the entryway steps and sat down with her. “Nothing like that… I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

“I wasn’t,” she admitted softly.

He sighed and wrapped her in his arms. “I should have been there for you. If I wasn’t such a coward, I would have been.”

“Donnie…” April chastised warmly, “I know you’re no coward.”

“Oh yeah? Well…” He connected to her mind, sending an image of himself transferring the food she had left for him to a different plate, rewrapping the foil so it looked like he hadn’t deigned touch it, and putting the empty dish back in the refrigerator.

April swatted his shoulder. “You horrible sneak!” she laughed, then sobered as she picked up on some of his related feelings: how much it had scared him to lose control of his body to the force of her driving lust, the horror that it nearly used him to rape her, the disgust of being defiled and used in such a way, the terror that he would be used to hurt her… He was justified in his avoidance of her, she realized. And then, shame: shame at his failure to recognize the problem, at being taken advantage of, at being used as a sex toy, in telling his brothers about the encounter, at being too afraid to so much as talk to her, ashamed of… being ashamed? Yes… part of him was embarrassed at having had these feelings. Tears sprung into her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. No wonder he had sent her away! She’d been the source of so much pain to him… _Donnie, I’m so sorry!_ she repeated.

A feeling of love and warmth blanketed her from him. _It’s all right… it’s all over now,_ he comforted, wiping the damp trails on her cheeks away with his thumb. _We’re together again, like we should be, and I’ll never leave you. Besides,_ he added, placing a three-fingered hand just below her ribcage, where a tiny life was growing within her, _some good came out of all this._

 _I love you,_ she sent, leaning in to gently capture his beak with her lips.

 _I know, Beautiful,_ he replied. _I love you too!_

The pair spent several minutes just kissing, their wonderful, warm emotions swirling around them as they reveled in each other’s presence: something that they had not experienced in weeks. They would have stayed there longer, lost in one another, had Mikey not arrived with a shout of, “Pizza’s here!” right behind them. April dodged as she was nearly stampeded by Leo and Raph, who were drawn as if magnetized at Mikey’s summons. Donnie stood and helped her to her feet, ushering her in front of him to grab a few slices before obtaining some for himself.

She mindfully checked her watch. “It’s getting late… maybe we ought to take this to go,” she mentioned to her turtle companion.

“You’re not staying?” Mikey asked, pouting. “But… it’s movie night!”

“Sorry, Mikey… we’ve got something important to take care of tonight,” Donnie informed his brother. “We’ll have to take a rain-check.”

The younger turtle wilted slightly. “Aww. All right…”

“Next time,” April assured him. “We’ll do a double-feature to make up for it.”

Mikey brightened. “I know just what we can watch! Night of the Crawlers 1 and 2!”

April chuckled. “Sounds great. See you!” Donnie put his arm around her shoulder and the two of them walked out, munching their pizza.

“I’ve known him my whole life, and still, I think you know how to handle Mikey better than I do…” Donnie mused, then glanced over at April. “You’re not picking the peppers and olives off?”

“Mmmh,” she answered with a nod as she swallowed. “Normally, I really hate them, but now, for some reason, they just smell delicious…”

Donnie laughed and hugged her close as they walked. “My beautiful pregnant angel is having cravings!”

April gave him a sidelong look. “You had better not be this enthusiastic about me having morning sickness, or I may have to kill you.”

He grinned widely at her. “I’ll try not to.”

 

April entered her building at ground level while Donatello silently dropped down to her fire escape from the rooftop, where she let him in moments later. He noted the distraught look on her features, and how she fidgeted. Her nervousness reached him through their link. He tried to send soothing vibes to her.

 _I really don’t know how he’s going to react to this…_ She fussed with her hair. _How do I look?_

Donnie put his hands on her shoulders. _Absolutely radiant_.

She rolled her eyes at him. _You’re biased. S_ he checked herself over, using his eyes to see herself through their link.

 _Yes, I am,_ he admitted.

She giggled, then sighed. “Well, this is it…” Taking his hands from her shoulders, she led him over to the sofa.

As the two of them sat on the couch, Kirby O’Neil emerged from the kitchen, having just poured himself a large glass of soda. “Well, good evening, you two! Only Donatello tonight, or are the others here and doing their ninja thing?” he laughed good-naturedly, joining them on the couch.

“No, it’s just the two of us,” April responded, reaching behind her to take one of Donnie’s hands, searching for support. “Dad... we have something we need to tell you…”

“Oh?” Kirby asked in a knowing manner, swirling the ice in his drink. “Is it going to keep me from watching Late Night?”

“Maybe…” April fretted.

“If it’s that you’re in love,” he chuckled, “I’m already well aware.”

She winced. “No, that’s not it…” She paused, bracing herself. “Dad, I’m pregnant.”

Though Kirby had thought he was prepared for their announcement, this wasn’t the one he was prepared for. His glass slipped out of his shocked hand and bounced off the cushion of the couch, landing in April’s lap. She stood at once with a gasp, shedding ice cubes and dripping soda. “Dad!” she chastised.

“Sorry, Honey…” her father apologized, now the one fretting instead of his daughter as he scrambled for a roll of paper towels and a can of rug cleaner.

April threw her hands up. “Now I’m gonna have to go get all cleaned up!”

“We’ve got this, you go…” Donnie waved her off, disconnecting from her mind as he took a handful of paper towels from Kirby and started sponging cola off the couch. She shot him a grin over her shoulder as she left the room.

 

With the soda spill cleaned up, and April taking a shower to wash the stickiness off of her, Donnie found himself sitting awkwardly across the couch from April’s father, who was giving him a steady glower in the uncomfortable silence. When he thought Donnie had sweated it out long enough silently, Kirby finally asked, “How did this happen?”

Donnie’s nervous brain immediately dove for its comfort zone. “Well, when a spermatophyte enters a female’s ovum, the zygote that forms attaches itself to the placental wall—and this is not at all what you meant…” he halted, more unnerved than ever.

The intensity of Kirby’s glare only increased. “What were your sperm doing anywhere near my daughter’s ova?!”

“Well I… She was… um…” He fidgeted, tapping his fingers together. “Oh, come on! She was a turtle! Possibly the only female mutant turtle in the world—an absolutely gorgeous female turtle whom I was already deeply, deeply in love with! How was I supposed to resist that?!” he blurted, his frustration tinged with a bit of temper.

Kirby snapped back, ”She’s barely seventeen! She’s still in school! Honestly, Donatello, I had taken you as being more responsible than this…”

Donatello looked as though he had been physically struck. His level of responsibility within the lair rivaled Leo’s, possibly even exceeding it in the broad scope of his duties. He was in charge of maintenance of the lair and vehicles, taking care of the family’s medical needs, creation of retro-mutagen for first Kirby, then April, and now their friend Frito, and soon, other friends and victims of mutation… even their enemies; his responsibility extended to them too. It fell on him to invent and patch together all sorts of electronics to help them in their daily lives, from the T-phone network to the mutagen tracker to the tech on board the Shellraiser. He took care of all their research and developed an algorithm to decrypt whatever came through the Kraang communication orb. For April’s father to accuse him of being irresponsible rankled him.

Kirby fired off another pot-shot at him. “You couldn’t have at least used protection?”

Donnie rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, because I can just saunter into any mini-mart in the city and purchase a condom the length of my arm!”

Kirby shook his head as though he didn’t want to think about the turtle biology implied in that statement and ploughed forward. “I’d like to say I know you well enough that you could have developed some sort of contraceptive...”

Donatello looked flabbergasted. “Was I supposed to make a turtle birth control pill before or after April’s retro-mutagen, Kirby?” he snapped, reminding April’s father where the priorities lay.

The man dropped his head onto his balled fists, as frustrated with this conversation as Don himself was. He let out a quavering sigh and looked Donnie in the eyes, now a bit calmer. “I’m just worried for her. It’s bad enough that she’ll carry the stigma of teen pregnancy through her last year of high school, but she may lose her chance to go to college, or find a good job… And the expenses… Neonatal care costs so much, I’m afraid we’ll have to dig into April’s college fund to take care of everything. Plus all the trappings: the crib, clothes, diapers, carriers, toys… I don’t know that I can afford to feed another mouth on my salary…”

Money, that’s what half of it came down to. Donnie chuckled, staring into space for a moment. “Could it be that simple?” Kirby shifted his gaze to the turtle querulously. “All I really need to do is get a job,” he stated optimistically.

“Pardon me, Donatello, but you don’t seem like your typical suit-and-tie commuter…”

He shook his head. “Wouldn’t have to be. You’re thinking in terms of your generation, where everything is brick and mortar buildings and driving through rush-hour traffic to work, whereas I can work from the lair, or here, or wherever I want—relatively speaking. I’d never have to be seen… doing programming on commission, web-design, tech support… who knows what?”

“You would be able to do that? You’d be willing to?”

The blissful grin returned to Donnie’s face. “For my Darling Blossom and our baby, anything!”

Satisfied with this solution and unable to remain dour in the face of such a bright smile, the man at last gave in and allowed Donatello a lopsided smile in return. “You remind me of myself when I was asking April’s grandfather permission to marry her mother…”

The idea seemed to smack Donnie upside the head from out in left field. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “Proposing…” His jaw went slack. Kirby didn’t seem to notice, continuing his ramble.

“Took three times before he said yes. Wouldn’t have his daughter marrying some long-haired miscreant. I finally made the sacrifice to cut it back. Funny thing, though, there was less and less left from that point on…” he said, running a hand over his bald pate.

“Kirby,” Donnie asked, his mouth suddenly going very dry, “would I have permission to marry April? I know it’s a lot to ask, me being a mutant and all…”

Kirby gave him an even gaze that wasn’t quite the glare he’d held on Donnie before, but Don’s stomach lurched as the psychologist shook his head. “It’s not _my_ permission you need, but hers.” When Donnie gave him an astonished, recovering look, he added, “Women’s Lib Movement. Granted, a mutant turtle wouldn’t have been my first choice for my daughter to marry, but at least it would be a step above having that obnoxious Jones boy as my son-in-law…”

Donnie snickered, thinking about how April’s time as a turtle had solidly knocked his rival out of the running for her affections, and how Casey certainly would have balked at such a subject as April being pregnant. Still, the boy’s heart was in the right place… had Donnie not been there, and Raph not willing to step up, Donatello had no doubt Casey would have been there for her.

Had it come to that, really, Donnie had to admit, April could have done much worse than Casey Jones. Still, he was immensely glad that April’s accidental mutation had skewed so much in his own favor. They’d become nigh inseparable.

April appeared from her bedroom, dressed in lavender and pale yellow pajamas. “How’s it going?” she asked Donnie. “Did you manage to bring Dad around on how awesome it’s going to be to have a grandchild yet?”

“Well, we haven’t gotten that far yet, but I think he’s starting to come around…” the turtle smirked.

Kirby stood, opening his arms for his daughter to run into. “Well, after the initial shock, and your beau allaying some of my fears, I’m actually thrilled about it! Congratulations, Bug.”

April beamed up to him. “Thanks, Daddy,” she said, hugging him tight.

“But now, it looks like Donatello has something he’d like to say to you,” Kirby smiled down on her.

She turned, curiously and met Donnie’s eyes. Their synergy surged to life, and she gasped at the thoughts awaiting her. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Donnie had his answer before he dropped to one knee before her, of course, but he did so for show and for Kirby’s benefit. “April, will—“

“Yes!” she squeaked, diving into his embrace and showering him with love in their connection and kisses in the physical plane.

Kirby chuckled. “I believe that’s my cue to head to bed. Good night, you two lovebirds.”

“ _Goodnight, Kirby,_ ” the pair said concurrently, earning a strange look from April’s father.

April waved him off. “I’ll explain later, Dad.”

Kirby nodded amenably and left the room. “Don’t stay up too late, you two.”

He didn’t receive a response this time; the synergists’ lips locked together as firmly as their minds.

 

Donnie’s hand wandered up April’s side, sliding easily over her satin pajamas. She sighed under his touch as she laid a hand on his cheek, the passion she’d withheld for weeks pouring forth in her kisses. _I’ve missed you so much!_ she moaned softly through their link.

 _And I missed you…_ He had to admit, though his fear and mental anguish had held him back, it had killed part of him to have to stay away from her. Surprisingly, it was just little details that he’d missed the most: the way she casually brushed his hand with hers when they passed each other, the smell of her hair after they’d been sparring, the contented little noises she made when he massaged her shoulders, the touch of her lips to his skin, the warmth she exuded after sex, tracing the pattern of her shell with his fingers…

It struck them both that certain levels of intimacy that they’d enjoyed were, once again, no longer available to them as different species. Their incompatibility had, in fact, been the underlying reason for their earlier breakup… but now, with the realization that they couldn’t live without one another, they found themselves having to explore other methods.

Their previous relationship had only really come to kissing and some light, affectionate touching… when she had been a turtle, they’d been much more bold, their anatomy made for each other. But now that Donnie had April in his arms as a lover in human form, he was hesitant… He couldn’t treat her like she was made of porcelain—nor would she put up with such careful treatment—but he didn’t dare be too rough with his shell-less companion. He started to freeze up in the fear of doing something wrong and hurting her.

She picked up on his trepidation and rolled her eyes impatiently. _Don’t be ridiculous, Donnie… you’re not going to hurt me!_ She hesitated as well, then shoved the thought aside. He smiled, seeing that her inhibitions were back in place, as they should be, though she was forcing them under. _Here… Touch me…_ She turned, leaning her back against his plastron, and interlaced her fingers with his, guiding his hands. The satin of her pajamas made the barest whisper as his hands slipped across the slick material covering her breasts. She glided his open palms across them, then curled his fingers around the petite mounds of flesh, showing him how much pressure to exert on them.

He was captivated. He kneaded the supple flesh, feeling her body respond to his touch both through their link and beneath his hands as her nipples hardened. She sighed against his neck at the stimulus and unfastened the top two buttons of her shirt, allowing him further access. He took immediate advantage of this new opportunity, reaching across her chest to grasp the bare breast presented to him, tweaking and rolling her nipple with his broad fingers. Was this what had been trapped beneath those pert little extensions in her plastron? He’d been missing out!

A warm wave of longing crashed over him from her. He moved his other hand down her side and across her thigh, giving it a light squeeze on its way to its intended destination. He pulled the tie of her pants out of its bow and inserted his hand, and was surprised to find another layer of fabric impeding him. Humans and their clothing… he didn’t understand it.

She chuckled at his frustration. _If we’re going to do this,_ she suggested, _we should probably move to the bedroom, so Dad doesn’t happen to walk in on us._

 _He’s probably had enough shock for one day,_ Donnie smirked in agreement, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to her room. _You haven’t told him very much, have you?_

 _The less he knows, the less he’ll freak out about,_ she replied dryly. _Ninjas, mutants, aliens, psychic connections… it’s really not his thing._

 _I suppose we’re not exactly normative, are we?_ he chuckled as he laid her out on her bed. _Now then, to get rid of some of this excess fabric…,_ another part of his mind directed. Placing himself at the foot of her bed, he seized the ankles of her pajama bottoms and tugged at them alternately until he pulled them free, leaving him a clear view of a triangle of yellow, which tried and failed to hide the bush of red hair beneath it: the underwear that had foiled him moments before. That, he would deal with in a minute. For now, there was entirely too much material still obscuring his full view of his lover—his _fiancée_ now, he reminded himself gleefully—and that just had to go. Buttons weren’t something he had to deal with on a day-to-day basis, but Donnie’s deft fingers managed them in short order, and April sat forward to allow him to pull her top off by the sleeves.

He spared a glance at her as she lay back again, marveling at the rosy aureolae laid bare before him, but he wanted the full picture, and there were still those pesky panties in the way. He hovered over her thighs, eyeing the little bikini bottom with intent. Crouching further down, he caught the scent of her heady feminine musk. It was slightly different than he recalled—the turtle pheromones were, of course, gone—but her human scent was still likewise intoxicating. Even without their mental link, he knew the play was exciting her, her body readying itself for something it wasn’t aware it wouldn’t receive. Come to think of it, so was his; he felt the release of the muscles that kept his member in check, his massive phallus dropping below his shell and beginning to harden.

He didn’t have time for it, at the moment. He was nearing completion of his goal of fully undressing April, and no distraction was going to keep him from it. He gave her wet little mound a nudge with his beak, eliciting a gasp from her then clamped his teeth on the front panel of her underwear and tugged it downward until it fell from her feet.

At long last, he stood, eyes drinking in her naked form. The diaphanous light from the city, their only light source, shone in on her from the room’s single window, accentuating the paleness of her skin and sheening on her loose red hair. She could have been carved of marble, a moving statue as she sat up on her elbows and turned her hips so he had a view of the firm roundness of one ivory buttock. _D’you like what you see, Hamato Donatello?_ April teased with lust-lidded eyes.

“April… You’re a goddess!” he said aloud, awestruck. “…So absolutely beautiful…”

He could have stared at her for hours, but as if to remind him that it too wanted in on the action, his cock gave an insistent throb. Noticing her partner’s increasing need for release, April beckoned him to her and sat up on her knees, spreading her legs apart to accommodate him. _Let’s take care of you first…_ He stepped up to her, shuddering when her slender fingers played over the sensitive skin of his swollen dick, guiding him up against her waiting slit. He pushed himself upward against her, unable to enter her, but instead sliding against her wet heat. She reached below to pull his shaft tighter against her and provide him a bit more friction. He rocked his hips forward, pleased to feel that she was also receiving some pleasure from the motion. He pulled back, savoring the feel of her hot flesh against his and her hand on his hardness, then plunged forward again, seeking to establish a rhythm with his thrusts.

His hands roved over her sides, down to her smooth buttocks and back upward to cup her breasts. He wondered at how soft every part of her felt, particularly the parts that her shell had denied him access to. But though her body was fascinating, it was another part of her that he truly yearned for… He moved a hand up the back of her neck, her hair gliding off his fingers as he reached to cradle her head. She gazed into his eyes as he sought hers. _Oh, April…_ The mere contact with the windows to her soul had him breathing heavier, and he ground his hips against hers.

 _My Donnie…_ she thought in return, and the touch of her love nearly sent him over the edge.

 _You…_ he gasped as his cock bucked before he could even fully pull the thought together. … _You said yes!_ He exploded, unable to hold back any further at the thought that she loved and wanted him; he was accepted, truly loved by this incredible woman, had found happiness in a world that had insisted such things were not meant for his kind. He let out a shout of triumph as he released his load into the sheet April expediently whisked over the end of his dick.

She regarded him with lust-laden eyes as he withdrew from between her legs. _You think I could have possibly told you no?_ she smiled as he lay her gently back on the bed. _Especially after tonight…_ A somber look crossed her features. _I don’t know what I would have done if you’d said you never wanted to see me again. I don’t think I could bear it…._

 _You’re strong,_ Don replied, crawling up onto the mattress and then pulling her to him. _I know you would have found a way to get along without me if you had to._

_Maybe. I wouldn’t have wanted to._

He nuzzled her neck as he reached a hand over her belly, twining his fingers in the fiery orange muff above her slit. _And you don’t have to. I love you. I love that you’re pregnant. I love that we made a baby, and I love that I can provide for you and take care of you. I love that I can be useful to you…_ His finger slipped down into her wet crevice to begin stroking her clitoris. _...Maybe in more ways than one…_

She began mewling softly as he fondled her, the sensations from her body coursing through him by extension. She arched her neck upward, locking lips with him as he bent to meet her. _Donnie…_ her mind whispered, tone full of adulation and craving for more of him. Her tongue sought inside his mouth for his, and at the same time, he slid his finger into her, tracing the boundaries of this new playground. A moan escaped her as he swirled his finger around her entrance, then forced it as deep into her as he could. Her body clenched against him, her mouth dropping open in ecstasy as he truly realized the disparity in their physiology: he was nearly filling her tight little cunny with one finger; his telephone pole of a dick would never fit inside her, not even so much as the tip. They could never have sex again…

April’s body didn’t seem to care. She let out a high, breathy gasp, shaking as he worked his finger in and out of her. With his free hand, he reached around to knead her breast. It sent another thrill of pleasure through them both. Her thoughts directed him to an especially good spot within her, and he complied, stroking it gently at first, then with more fervor as she responded. “Oh god!” she shrieked, trying to keep her voice confined to a whisper. “Oh god, Donnie! Oh god!!” Her voice went up another octave as she emitted another shrill, whispered scream. The pleasurable spasm of her orgasm rocked through them in bursts, April collapsing onto her stomach as he drew his finger out of her. She drew the blanket toward her as an effervescent tingle filled her. Donnie drew his legs up to spoon with hers, basking in the endorphin rush and the heat that rolled off of her.

As she headed toward sleep, he gave her a few mental caresses and closed off their connection, kissing her cheek. “Goodnight, Sweetheart,” he whispered, slipping away from her curled form and draping the blanket over her bare body.

She roused slightly, no longer feeling him against her or in her mind. “Donnie?” She reached a hand out to him from under the blanket.

“Hmm?” he responded, ready to tiptoe out of the room. “You sleep… I’ll let myself out.”

She shook her head. “Stay? I’ve missed sleeping with you.”

He gave her a little snort. “Your bed’s too small… My shell will take up the whole thing.”

She gave him a languid smile. “You fit just fine a minute ago. You can lean your shell up against the wall.”

He sighed, returning her smile, knowing he could never deny her anything. “All right, you win.” He pulled his phone from his belt, texting Leo that he would be spending the night at April’s and would be back for breakfast, then set its alarm for 5:00. It was earlier than he would have liked, but it would give him ample time to sneak home undetected under darkness, before the majority of the city residents started their day. He unbuckled his pads and harness and placed them in a neat pile at the foot of the bed before crawling back under the blankets to snuggle with her.

She rolled over to plant a series of kisses on his beak. “I love you so much, Donnie.”

He nuzzled her and kissed her in return. “I love you so much, too, my beautiful April...” Draping an arm over her, he drifted off to sleep.

 

The knife gleamed in the dim light of the back alley, and the hand holding it struck swiftly downward, severing its target. “And that, gentlemen, is how you disarm a security system,” the gang leader demonstrated, tucking the short blade back into his waistband as he bent the wires away from the system’s contact points.

“Nice, Fong!” one of the two men behind the leader approved.

Fong nodded sideways for Tsoi and Sid to enter the antique shop. “Anything that’ll fetch a price, but nothing too big, got it?” he instructed his associates.

“Ain’t you coming in?” Tsoi checked as Fong himself made no move to enter the shop.

Fong waved him off in a small gesture. “Somebody’s gotta keep a lookout for those turtle freaks.” Mostly to himself, he added, “Those fuckers always show up at the worst possible times…”

Inside the shop, Tsoi broke into and cleaned out a display of costume jewelry while Sid picked through the shelves. “Hey…” Sid grinned, holding a long-nosed Carnival mask to his face. “How ‘bout this?”

Tsoi gave him a weary glare and sighed heavily. “Put that down, that ain’t worth nothin’.”

Sid looked skeptical. “Price tag says otherwise. You’d be surprised how much.”

“It’s just gonna get crushed. Pitch it and grab those candlesticks instead…”

Back in the alley, Fong scanned the rooftops and fire escapes. “I’m ’a see you coming this time, green freaks…” A breathy snort from behind him told him that he’d been looking in the wrong direction. He whirled and backed up a few careful, terrified steps, looking up and up at the mutant before him. He fumbled for the knife in his belt, jaw frozen open.

“No loitering,” its deep, gravelly voice rumbled at him.

There was a cut-off yelp and the smack of a body being slammed against a wall. Tsoi looked up from his pillaging. “Fong?” He stepped outside the shop. “Fong?” A second thwack followed the first. Then, silence.

The sudden absolute quiet sent a shiver up Sid’s neck. For a moment, he remained stock-still. “Guys? Where’d you go?” Abandoning his loot sack, he dashed outside, looking this way and that for his friends. “Tsoi? Fong? Where are you guys?”   There wasn’t a trace of them. “Fong! Tsoi!” he called again, more urgently, but only the ambient city noise answered him.

 


	3. Best Man for the Job

Donatello stood back and gave a nod of approval, looking over his handiwork. Over the course of a week, he had managed to put together a crisp, attractive and professional-looking website, advertising his new business. The header on the front page declared it proudly to be Renaissance Programming Solutions, an independent programming contractor for hire, available for coding, debugging, web-development and more. The front page sported a picture of a reasonably handsome young man in a suit, which Donnie had swiped somewhat randomly and a bit abashedly from a lineup of realtors’ photos. He had set up ad banners in circles that were the likeliest to respond to his offered services. Kirby, approving of Don’s enthusiasm and drive to support his daughter, had agreed to set up a bank account for the business and added April as a signer so she would be able to draw money out of it as well.

It had all been so simple, in the end, that Donnie had been on edge for days, waiting to run into some obstacle or other that hampered his progress in the least, but none had come, and he started to calm down and anxiously awaited his first contract. The worry that no orders would come was likewise unnerving—how would he be able to support April and the baby if no one contacted him??—but after four days, he was contacted by a company in Montana that needed their old database system updated to something more modern. Donnie accepted the job eagerly and dove into the project with fervor.

The coding, though time-consuming to construct, was really child’s play for him. The challenge, it turned out, was keeping his brothers from interrupting him.

Leo leaned around the corner of the lab. “Hey, Donnie?”

“Yeah, Leo?” Don responded without looking up from the lines of code he was typing.

“Have you noticed the Shellraiser riding a little hard since the last teardown you did on it?”

Donnie sighed, eyes still on his screen. “I’ll have a look at it later.”

Leo nodded. “You coming out for training?”

“Yes, as long as I can get this done.” The slight edge on Donnie’s voice was enough to let Leo know that he was testing his brother’s patience, and he withdrew without another word.

Fifteen minutes later, Raphael invaded the lab. “Hey, genius. When are you gonna get around to making me those new shuko spikes?”

“If you’re missing them so much, you shouldn’t have given yours to Frito.”

“Come on, Donnie… Cav was gonna get that kid killed. Those grips probably saved his life.”

Donnie nodded. He, too, would have hated to see anything happen to the young raccoon mutant. Raph’s sacrifice had been straight from the heart, but it was a critical piece of a ninja’s gear, and Raphael, who liked clinging to the sides of buildings, was clearly missing his. “I’ll get to them when I can, but I’ll need to forage around one of the scrap yards to find a good piece of iron rebar.”

“When’re you planning on going?” Raph pressed.

“I don’t know. Look, I’m trying to focus on this…”

“Yeah, fine, whatever. Nerd…” Raph jabbed as a parting shot on his way out.

Donnie had about twenty minutes of uninterrupted silence to work in before Mikey crashed in on his skateboard. “Donnie! Come sewer-boarding with me!”

Don’s hands went up to clutch his head in irritation. “Mikey, I’m _working_. I don’t have time to goof around with you right now.”

Mikey whined dejectedly. “But Donnie, I’m _bored!_ And you’ve been at this for, like, an hour! You can take a break and have some fun…” He suddenly cowered under the fiery glare his older brother gave him. Donnie’s temper had reached the end of its fuse. He stood and spun Mikey around, then with one hand on his carapace, shoved the younger turtle out the lab door. “I’m sorry, Donnie… I just—“ Mikey tried to apologize for somehow offending Donatello, missing the real source of his anger.

“Everybody get over here, NOW!” Donnie demanded, making Leo and Raph exchange a stunned glance. Donatello waited until they gathered in front of him before he started lecturing. “I am officially _working_ , you guys. This isn’t just messing around, it isn’t something I can put off until later, and it’s something I need concentration for. What I _don’t_ need is people coming in to bother me about skateboarding, or shuko spikes, or how the Shellraiser is running!”

“We asked you a couple simple questions, and you’re biting our heads off about it,” Leonardo rebuffed.

“It’s still an interruption! Every time one of you comes in to pester me, I lose the whole train of thought I was working on constructing. I’m trying to cram eight hours of productivity into the only six hours in the day I can afford, when I’m not training or going on patrol or making retro-mutagen. Right now, this is my top priority: making money to support April and the baby.”

“The baby’s not even going to be born for at least six months,” Raph grumped. “Not like April needs the money right now…”

“Not immediately, but there are all sorts of appointments and scans and things April needs to have while she’s pregnant, and apparently the prenatal and neonatal care are really expensive, and not wholly covered by Kirby’s insurance, meaning, I have to earn and save as much as I can to make sure all the expenses get covered.”

“With all due respect, Donnie, you’re a ninja, first and foremost. What could be more important than training?”

Mikey likewise interjected, “What could be more important than skateboarding?”

His brothers all blinked at him. “Um, a lot of things, Mikey,” Raph sighed at him. “Like making sure every ninja on the team has all their gear,” he added meaningfully.

“AND that the vehicles are in proper working order,” Leo added.

“I’ll get to all of that when I can, but my point is, _not right now_. I need to focus on my work, and I need you guys to leave me alone while I’m working, and that means no coming in to talk with me, no knocking on the door, and no skateboarding or otherwise coming in to play in my lab. We clear?”

After a second of silence, Donnie’s three brothers all broke into a series of complaints against him, which were suddenly and immediately silenced by the stoic presence of Master Splinter among them. “Your brother is attempting to accommodate all he can for us all as he tries to balance the new challenges in life that he is faced with. He does not need your complaints, which only add to his burden, but your support. He makes a small request of you. Think of all the things Donatello has done for us, and then consider if you would deny him the solitude he requires to provide for his new family.”

Leo, Mikey and Raph all looked slightly ashamed of themselves. “Sorry, Donnie. We’ll leave you alone,” Raph stated abashedly, and scooted off.

“Yeah,” Leo echoed. “And, ya know… don’t worry about working on the Shellraiser… It can wait. And if you need to bow out of patrol in the evening or anything…”

Don nodded. “Thanks, Leo, but it’s okay. Like I said, I’ll get to it,” he said, shooing the leader off.

Mikey gave him an apologetic look with raised eyebrows. “Sewer-boarding later?”

Donnie gave him a wearied smile. “Maybe this evening.” He turned to reenter his lab as Mikey rolled off on his skateboard, but paused as Splinter made no move to leave. “Sensei?”

The aged ninjutsu master laid a hand on Donnie’s shoulder. “Do not overburden yourself, my son. One who chases two hares will not catch either.”

Donnie pondered over his sensei’s wisdom for a moment. “Yeah… um… I will consider that, but right now I need to get back to work…”

Splinter shook his head. “You have good intentions toward us all, but do not allow them to cause yourself harm.” He bowed to Donatello, who returned the gesture.

As Splinter returned to his chambers, Donnie bustled back into his lab, shutting the door behind him with a stressed-out sigh. He once again began typing out lines of code, when, minutes later, the timer he had set next to the centrifuge let out a pert “ding!” Don’s forehead thunked against the desk. “Et tu, centrifuge?”

 

A shocked Casey Jones sprayed a mouthful of soda in Donnie’s direction. Don raised an arm to deflect part of the spray. “April is _pregnant??_ ” He paused, considering. “I guess that explains the sudden crying…”

Donnie shrugged, looking down to the alley from their perch atop the fortune cookie factory, scanning for any Purple Dragon activity in the vicinity. The turtles hadn’t seen any movement from the group in weeks; they were due. And yet, nothing, so their patrol had wound down to just sitting, watching from their outpost.

“She _was_ legitimately upset about our breakup, though,” Don told him. “She said she was going to try to tell you she was… you know… with child, but she couldn’t do it. She was scared.”

“Scared?”

“Of how you’d react… that you’d drop her too as soon as you found out.”

Casey glared accusationally at the turtle. “I wouldn’t’ve done that! April’s… She’s too good a friend. I mean, obviously it’s not me she’s interested in, never really has been, but she’s still one of the nicest people I’ve ever known, and if she needed me, I’d be there for her, no matter what!”

Donnie quirked a sideways smile at him. “I’m glad. She may need you at her side when I can’t be there. I’m given to believe teen pregnancies get treated to some pretty harsh gossip and ridicule.”

“No matter what,” the vigilante reiterated, emphasizing each word proudly.

“They’re gonna think you’re the father, you realize…”

Casey shrugged nonchalantly. “Let ‘em think. It’s a lot tamer than the truth.” He drew himself up proudly. “Once we’re out of school, I’ll even marry her.” He took a long swig of his soda.

“Dream on, Casey-nova! The position of fiancé has already been filled. I proposed to her the same night she told me she was pregnant,” Don said smugly, then had to throw his arm up as Casey showered him with another mouthful of sprayed soda.

“Proposed?! You really know how to shut a guy out of the game, D…”

Donnie shook droplets off his arm as best as he could with a glower at his rival. “That one was totally on purpose, wasn’t it?”

Casey returned his look with a mean-spirited smirk. “Totally was. How’d you get a ring? Just wait for one to fall into the sewers?”

Donatello’s expression dropped. “R…ring?”

“Dude, you’re supposed to give her a ring when you propose! It’s like, to seal the deal.”

Donnie’s eyes flicked back and forth in realization. “I didn’t— It was sort of spur-of-the-moment… “

“Ha! So she’s still available! Casey Jones stays in the game!”

“Casey Jones had better not even think about it, or he’s gonna have five feet of my bo somewhere really uncomfortable!” Donnie fired back, quirking an eyebrow at his rival.

Casey waved his hands in a calming gesture. “Kidding, D… Just kidding.”

Donnie shook his head, glancing back toward the street. His brows knit. “So… if you knew April obviously wasn’t interested in you, why keep butting heads with me over her?”

“You gotta stay in the game until the bitter end, even if it looks like you’ve already lost, because you never know if you’re gonna get the chance to even the odds and score the winning goal in those last few seconds.”

“I guess I should’ve expected a hockey metaphor from you.”

“It’s what I’m best at… Gotta go with your strengths,” Jones grinned.

The turtle gave him a smirk and a nod. “How about being best at something else?”

Casey glanced back curiously. “Like what?”

“Would you be our best man?”

The vigilante paused, then gave an ironic laugh. “Casey Jones… would be honored. I’ll be the best best man ever!”

Donnie held out his hand, and the two of them shook on it. “Great. I really appreciate it.” He straightened up a bit. “And your first duty, as best man, is finding a ring for—“

“Hold up, D…” Casey interrupted, eyes focused on the street below. “Is that Sid?”

Don joined him, looking down over the balustrade as the barrel-chested gang member wandered past, almost aimlessly. “That’s him all right,” he confirmed, “but no sign of Tsoi or Fong?”

“I’ve never seen a Purple Dragon look so much like a kicked puppy. There’s something weird about this…” Taking a few steps back on the roof and without any prelude, he ran and jumped to the opposing building, descending the fire escape with an unnecessary amount of clattering steps.

“Casey, what are you—?!” Donatello whispered after him, then followed, much more stealthily and keeping himself camouflaged in the shadows.

“Yo, Sid!” Casey announced himself loudly. “Where’s your buddies?!”

The muscle-bound Purple Dragon whirled around at Jones’s shout, drawing a blade from a sheath on his hip, but though he fell into an attack stance, the lost, frightened look didn’t leave his features. He wasn’t going to fight on his own.

“Where’s Fong?” Casey demanded.

Sid looked dubious, then finally answered, “I dunno.”

“Whaddya mean, you don’t know?” The vigilante drew his hockey stick, letting the Dragon know he wasn’t above beating the information out of him.

“I mean, I dunno!” Sid insisted, raising his voice in annoyance. “We was pullin’ a gig, and Fong stayed outside to watch for those turtle-freak friends a’ yours. Tsoi and I heard him yell, and Tsoi went out to see what happened, and when neither of ‘em came back, I went out to check on ‘em, but they was gone.”

“Sure they didn’t just ditch your sorry ass?” Casey prodded.

The man shook his head. “They ain’t been home. Nobody’s seen ‘em. And that ain’t all—I heard rumors from some a’ the other Dragons… lotsa people going missing ‘round here.”

Casey pondered for a moment. “If so many people have gone missing, why aren’t there cops all over this place, looking for them, or whoever took ‘em?”

Sid snorted derisively. “Who cares if some gang members go missing, right? They go through the motions, but it’s all bullshit… they don’t do nothin’ to find nobody.”

Donnie dropped soundlessly onto the lid of a dumpster between the two. Sid flinched and backed up a few paces, switchblade at the ready, but the turtle made no further movement toward him, and he lowered it again. “Where was this ‘gig’ of yours? And how long ago?”

 

The turtle and the teen vigilante rushed to the alley behind the antique shop. Donatello motioned for Casey to stay back as he examined the ground for any evidence. There were tire tracks which looked to be from a garbage truck that had emptied nearby dumpsters, and a puddle of muck produced by a recent rain, both of which had likely obliterated any tracks left behind by the kidnapper. Donnie shook his head. “Ehh, any sign of Fong or Tsoi has already been wiped out or washed away.”

Casey joined him, looking down at the tire tracks in the alley mud. “So, we’ve got nothing. No great loss, I guess…”

Donnie humphed. “Yeah, this case has gone cold. Even if it’s just the Purple Degenerates, it doesn’t mean whoever’s doing this can just kidnap people. We’ll keep an eye out for the kidnapper, but until we can find some actual evidence, I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.”

“So much for this patrol…” Casey grumbled.   “We callin’ it a night?”

“I suppose so,” Don sighed, shaking his head at the barren alleyway. “I’ll give you a call about you-know-what next week.”

“You got it. Later, D!” Popping his skates in place, Casey disappeared around the corner, into the main street.

 

Arriving at April’s, Donatello jimmied the lock on the balcony door and let himself in, locking it again after himself. He hadn’t made a sound coming in, but April must have sensed his arrival, because she ambled in from the office with a tired-looking smile. “Hi,” she greeted warmly.

“Hi,” he returned, feeling a bubbly warmth at seeing her, even before their synergy linked them. It felt like coming home to her, even though most nights, they arrived together after finishing patrol rounds with the rest of the turtles. Tonight, and most of the past week, she’d stayed home for schoolwork. “How goes the research project?”

She rolled her eyes, heaving a relieved sigh. “Ugh, _done_ , finally! I’m just printing off the rough draft. How was patrol?”

“Pretty quiet, again, though according to our friend Sid, there’s been a number of disappearances in the area, Fong and Tsoi among them. In other news, though, Casey agreed to be best man.”

April grinned with a slight chuckle. “I knew he wouldn’t turn that down.” She leaned in to embrace him, but stopped suddenly, inspecting his shell. “Why are you all sticky?”

Donnie rolled his eyes. “The best man spewed his soda all over me. Next time I have news for him, I’ll bring an umbrella.”

Laughing, but with a bit of annoyance, April spun him around by his carapace and shoved him toward the bathroom. “No, this won’t do. In the shower with you!”

Don protested, but let himself be steered along in front of her. “It’s not that bad… a damp washcloth will clean this off—” She raised her eyebrows coyly at him and sent him a mental image. He blinked in realization, narrowing his eyes at her. “Oh-ho-ho… you insatiable little vixen, you!”

“Besides, I just changed the sheets,” April added, closing and locking the door behind them. “No sense in getting them dirty right off the bat.” Bending down, she undid the buckles on his kneepads and set them neatly aside, then did the same with his elbow-pads. She reached up and lightly tugged his mask off, setting it atop the pile. Then he helped her as she pulled off her skater shirt and jeans, tossing them less ceremoniously on the floor. He slid his thumbs down the sides of her hips until her panties fell to the floor, and she kicked them aside.   He was then left with her bra. He gave her a playful nip on the neck as he pulled her to him, fumbling with the straps on her back for a couple of minutes, before admitting frustrated defeat. April giggled and reached behind her back to unhook the troublesome undergarment, and let him pull it off of her arms. It should have been no surprise to her that he then had to analyze the hook-and-eye mechanism that had given him so much trouble, figuring out how to hook and unhook it.

In the meantime, she reached into the shower, turned the water on, and stepped in, waiting for him. Curiosity satisfied, and seeing her awaiting him, Donnie cast the bra aside and all but leapt into the shower to join his mate.

 _Your dad’s not going to go ballistic if he catches us at this, is he?_ Don queried apprehensively as he laid his hands on her shoulders.

She snorted. _I’m already pregnant… It’s not like we could get in any_ worse _trouble than that, and it’s not like we weren’t messing around like this before we got engaged._ She paused, smiling brilliantly up at him as a warm ripple of excitement passed between them. _We’re engaged!_ she squeaked happily.

 _You’re pregnant!_ his mind exulted at the same time, and the two crushed together in an ardent, almost desperate series of kisses as the water flowed over them.

April let her hands wander down one scute of his plastron after the next, heading southward slowly, but with definite intent. Bending slightly to reach between his legs, she stroked him gently until his member unfurled from its hiding place. Donnie let out a pleasured moan as she ran her hands down the length of his shaft as the beast lengthened and hardened. “Whoa, mama…” he said aloud, eyes rolling back. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt her tongue writhing across its tip. Its length, coupled with their comparative heights, meant that she barely had to bend to meet it. It was much too large for her to get her mouth around, but that wasn’t stopping her from using her mouth in every other method she could to drive him over the edge. Pressing it to her lips eagerly, she kissed, sucked and licked at the monumental cock before her.

 _April…_ he gasped, _you’re gonna make me—you don’t have to—_ He struggled to restrain himself, phallus so hard it was beginning to ache.

She looked up into his eyes, mouth still working at his dick, suckling the pre-cum away before the flow of the water could claim it. _I want you to, Donnie_ , she insisted, pulling back slightly, mouth wide, tongue out as if she was merely catching snowflakes. _I want this, I want to taste you! Do it, Donnie… come for me!_

 _April…April! Oh, fuck, yes!!_ Her insistence triggered him and with a feral growl, he clenched his teeth and squirted his hot seed into her mouth and onto her face. As she drew back slightly, a thick rope of his jizm splattered against her chest and ran down into her petite cleavage. She swallowed slowly, savoring the taste, then leaned backward to let the stream of water rinse the rest from her face.

Panting, weak-kneed, and tasting the saltiness of his own cum through her, Don gave her a wry grimace. _Are you_ sure _you’re over the nymphomania? You’re sure…well… needy, lately._ He turned her around and pressed her to him as his cock retracted into its pouch. With an arm around her upper torso, he lifted her, giving himself a better angle. Running a hand over her vulva, he reached down to finger her clit. She let out a loud moan as he worked to return her favor.

 _It’s the h… hormones…_ she noted, gasping and arching backward against him. Turning her head toward him for a kiss, she reached behind her to trace his jaw with one hand. _I’ve been so horny for you all day… and that boring research paper sure didn’t help!_ _Besides,_ she added, mentally guiding him toward her g-spot as he worked her down below, _there’s so many things I want to try with you._ She whimpered and writhed against him. _Yes, there!_

Donnie nuzzled her cheek as she threw her head back, riding the tide of bliss he was bringing her to… bringing them _both_ to, as the surge of her orgasm nearly brought him to his knees. A quavering sigh escaped him as she screamed soundlessly, another wave building in her, even as she climaxed. Another few strokes of her clit with his thumb as he shoved his finger inside of her brought her off again. _Donnie!_ , she moaned in his mind. _Oh, my dear Donnie… you feel so good!_

 _Sweetheart, oh, Baby,_ he echoed, setting her back on her feet, _you are so incredible, you hot little thing!_

After a cursory soap-down, she shut the water off and handed him a towel, claiming another for herself. Drying off would have gone faster, but they couldn’t seem to pull away from each other for more than a few moments before needing one another’s touch. Donnie held her, massaging her breasts lightly through her towel as she dried her hair, and April kept a hand on his arm as he collected his gear and they transferred themselves to her bedroom, where they spent another half an hour kissing and snuggling before finally disconnecting their synergy to settle in to sleep.

Even after weeks of sleeping side by side with her in the lair, and in the same bed with her at her apartment more and more frequently, the anticipation of it hadn’t worn off. He hadn’t really gotten used to sleeping on his side, but it was that or force April to sleep on his hard carapace or plastron, as he took up so much of the bed… but at any rate, it certainly wasn’t a very restful position for a turtle. Even so, he relished the close proximity of his fiancé and soul-mate. It was more than getting to cradle her body against his and smell her hair as she went to sleep; it was as if a part of their synergy kept going even when they separated, an afterglow that stayed with them as long as they kept contact. They were both addicted to the feeling, and Donnie drifted off in its warm euphoria.

 

He awoke at around four, with his right side aching and begging for some relief. April lay curled up next to him, and gave a sleepy sigh as he moved slightly. He pulled the blanket off of himself carefully and launched himself off the wall, landing silently, all so that he wouldn’t disturb her. Even in slumber, she seemed to sense the extra room in the bed and spread out into the space Donnie had occupied. He smiled lovingly at her and kissed the top of her head lightly as he pulled on his pads and harness.

Working his cramped-up shoulder in a circle, he headed for the balcony, when he noticed the flickering light from the television in the living room. For a moment, he thought that perhaps it had accidentally been left on, but upon entering the room, he discovered Mr. O’Neil on the couch. “Kirby?” he queried quietly.

“Ah, good morning, Donatello,” April’s father responded in a hushed tone befitting the early hour. “You’re awake early… and looking a bit stiff, if I may say so…”

Don chuckled and continued to stretch out his arm, then rotated his neck, which gave a compliant pop. “Turtles weren’t designed to sleep on their sides. Figured I’d head back to the lair and get a couple of hours of real sleep before I have to be up,” he said ruefully. “What are you doing awake?”

Kirby gave a small snort. “Insomnia waits for no man.”

The turtle nodded. “Nightmares again?” he asked. After being mutated twice and abducted by the Kraang to be used against his own daughter, it was only to be expected that the traumatic memories evidenced themselves in Kirby’s unconscious mind, but that appeared not to be the case for once, as the man shook his head.

“No, thankfully… just some general restlessness. You know how it is, I suppose… you wake up and start thinking about things you have to do, or start worrying about something, and those thoughts just occupy your mind to a point that relaxing yourself back to sleep becomes impossible…”

Don contemplated for a moment. Normally speaking, he was always too exhausted for insomnia to take hold on him; sleep came knocking before he was ready for it, and oftentimes, he ended up asleep in his lab on top of his current project. Recently, however, he recalled not being able to sleep when he found out April’s cure was a wash—or so he thought at the time. The abject misery had consumed his mind, and he had been much too distraught for sleep to claim him. That had been an extreme exception… but another memory came to him, this one more helpful.

“When we were little, Master Splinter had us do deep breathing exercises before bed. Inhale deeply through the nose, then exhale through the mouth, taking twice as long to breathe out as it did to breathe in. A lot of our meditation exercises incorporate this kind of breathing, too.”

“Thereby oxygenating the brain, and bringing on a sort of pre-somniant state… I see. Thank you, I’ll have to give that a try.” But just as Kirby took his first deep breath, the two of them heard rushed footfalls as a flash of orange swept across the hallway and retching sounds carried to them from the bathroom.

“Morning sickness,” they both deduced.

“I’ll take care of her,” Mr. O’Neil declared, waving him toward the balcony. “You go, get your sleep while you still can. There’ll be plenty of lost hours of sleep for all of us when the baby arrives,” he said with a knowing grimace.

Donnie looked to the bathroom, then back to Kirby with sympathetically raised brows. “G’night, Kirby,” he said, letting himself out.

 

Casey stared wide-eyed at the fan of bills held up before him. “Holy shit!” he said with an impressed air. “And this is just from your _first_ paycheck?!”

Donatello grinned widely. “Programming from a proficient source pays pretty well.”

“That’s fuckin’ sweet!”

Don returned the bills to the unmarked white envelope he had produced them from and pressed it into Casey’s shocked hands. “I need you to get us an engagement ring. Consider it part of your best-man duties.”

“Me?”

“I’m not sending April to buy her own ring, and between you and Kirby, I think you’ve got a better sense of aesthetics.”

“Hey, I wasn’t looking anywhere near there—I mean… April’s really hot and all, but—“

Donnie rolled his eyes and huffed. “That’s not what that means!” He paused, eyes narrowing somewhat jealously at his one-time rival. “Incidentally, when are we talking about here?”

Casey shot him a winning gap of a smile and prudently avoided answering the question. “Don’t worry, D, I’ll get you the best ring there is!”

 

The mood was tense. He could feel eyes on him… did he really deserve such a heavy glare? His palms were becoming clammy with nerves; he hoped it would all be over soon. He knew he was being watched, judged, an unwelcome visitor, but he knew he had to keep his cool.

“Do you need any help?” she asked with false patience.

“N…no!” he said defensively, then blushed a bit. “Well… yes… God, it’s so hard!” A flash of blue caught his eye and he calmed, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

“It’s all right,” she reassured him. “Take all the time you need.”

Those blue orbs captured his gaze again. “No,” he said stolidly, “I’m ready.” He’d never done this before, but it was for April, and he’d go to the ends of the earth for her. He just hoped he was getting it right…

The jeweler opened the glass case, removing the ring Casey pointed to. “Is this for an engagement?” she queried, holding the diamond and sapphire ring out for him to examine. Her associates—another woman who looked slightly older, and a man in his 50s with thinning hair and a jeweler’s loupe clenched in one eye—breathed sighs of relief as the supposed hooligan with the hockey sticks and baseball bat actually expressed interest in making a purchase rather than smashing the place up.

He nodded. “Yeah… not for me, I mean… I’m just the best man.”

“Ahh, you’re picking it out for a friend, then?” the young blonde asked. “This is one of our more unique pieces… one 24-carat diamond, flanked by two 16-carat and two 12-carat sapphires, set in a white gold twist band.”

Casey mostly ignored the shop-talk. “Yeah, my friend Donnie thinks I have a thing for aesthetics.” He still had no idea what that meant, but it wasn’t going to stop him from using the fancy term to impress the young woman. “You’ve got a pretty nice aesthetic yourself,” he added, waggling his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes in an experienced way at the come-on.

“Do you have any idea what her ring size is?”

Casey dug into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. “Uh… six?”

The jeweler smiled. “Well, aren’t you the lucky one! This just happens to be a six!”

He smirked back at her. “Can I pick ‘em, or can I pick ‘em?”

As the woman took the ring to the back room to polish and box it, Casey turned over a large number of the bills Donnie had entrusted him with to the man with the loupe still screwed into his eye. Accepting the little velvet box and shoving it in his pocket, he shot the woman who had helped him a flirtatious gapped smile. “Casey Jones is eternally grateful for the assistance,” he said, making a grand exit.

The jewelers all visibly relaxed to have the bull out of their china shop. “Who the hell is Casey Jones?” the older woman asked. The younger shook her head.

 

It wasn’t quite sunset when Casey swaggered around the corner and proceeded a few blocks from the jeweler’s. He pulled his phone from his pocket and texted Donnie as he walked: _Mission_ _accomplished!_ He looked up as he hit send, the bareness of the wall next to him somehow drawing him toward it: a brownstone canvas, only adorned with a few small tags… a strange singularity in Purple Dragon territory, possibly recently sandblasted, and with the Dragons laying low of late, perhaps they hadn’t dared to stray this far. He pulled a pair of spray paint cans from his bag, shaking them vigorously. It was a wall screaming out for art. It was calling to him, begging: _Paint me, Casey! Please paint me!_ Of course he would… How could you deny a beautiful bare wall like that the opportunity to be dressed up by the trademark of the legendary Casey Jones? He wouldn’t deny the world his awesome talent!

Finding toeholds in the bricks, he climbed up and painted the top arc of the C, then moved sideways to do the crossbar of the J. He then dropped down to finish the letters and incorporate the outline of his goalie character, and switching to the white paint, climbed up again to fill the letters with quick, broad strokes. He was halfway done with the bottom of the J when he heard a rough snort behind him, followed by a low and definitely ticked-off voice: “Defacing public property carries a strict fine.”

Casey winced, raising his hands above his head and slowly turning around, broad, toothless smile in place, ready to charm the officer. The smile fell off his face as something hard rammed him into the still-wet paint on the wall. He slid to the ground, black and white paint sticking to his cheek, and twisted to see his enemy. His eyes focused on a very large cloven hoof, attached to a very large mutant goat, with spiraling horns that added another three feet to the creature’s already impressive height. He dove to the side and rolled to his feet as the goat reached for him. “What do you want, mutant?!” he yelled at it, drawing his baseball bat from behind him.

The goat gave a somewhat amused grunt, reaching for the coiled willow whip at is side. “You,” it said darkly, “incarcerated.”

“Incarcer—wh—?” the hockey player stammered, when a thought struck him. “You’re the one making people go missing! Fong, and Tsoi…”   He leapt out of the path of the mutant’s lash twice, but the third struck him across the shoulder, cutting the skin beneath his shirt. It was then that he realized that he wasn’t wearing his gear—his spiked shoulder guards and arm guard, taser, even his skates… all of them were stowed in his bag. All he had on him were his sticks and mask. “Ohh, man…”

His moment of contemplation cost him another lash, this one catching him across the thigh. He ducked the next, which came at his head, and ran at the wall, using it to gain height in leaping at his opponent. “GOONGALA!” he roared, bringing his bat down between the goat’s eyes. He struck true and hard, but the mutant hardly blinked at the blow. Casey blinked in return, taken aback. “Shit, goats butt with their heads, don’t they?” he mumbled to himself, wishing he’d realized it a few moments sooner.

The mutant took the opportunity to spin and deliver a powerful buck to Casey’s midsection. The teen yelped as he felt his ribs crack. Another single-hoofed kick smashed him into the wall again for good measure. His head impacted the bricks, and his vision started to fade. He made a last-ditch attempt to yell for help, but the pain in his chest reduced his scream to a whimper. The goat snorted brusquely, grabbing him by the ankles and slinging him over its back, jarring Casey’s ribs again. The pain only provided a moment of wakefulness. “You have the right,” he heard it rumble as he blacked out completely, “to remain _silent._ ”


End file.
